


On Loan

by SkadiofWinter



Category: The Night Circus - Erin Morgenstern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-16 04:36:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13046622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkadiofWinter/pseuds/SkadiofWinter
Summary: Happy Holidays, Spoke!I always call TNC one of my favourite books though I had only read it once, thank you for giving me an opportunity to read it again.This might not be quite what you expected but a trip to the circus never is, and I hope you enjoy these little stories.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spoke](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spoke/gifts).



> Happy Holidays, Spoke!  
> I always call TNC one of my favourite books though I had only read it once, thank you for giving me an opportunity to read it again.
> 
> This might not be quite what you expected but a trip to the circus never is, and I hope you enjoy these little stories.

You return home entirely distracted.

Wake with a quickening heart and the echo of the doorbell as you make your way downstairs to answer the door, weary eyes blinded by what your family would call the 'Blackpool Illuminations'. In the morning light all the rooms are a sickly yellow, every light turned on previously from your way to pouring a glass of water and washing up before collapsing into bed after getting home at dawn.

You turn the hall lights off as you unlatch the door. Fuss uselessly to improve your disheveled appearance before pulling the handle and making hurried small talk as you sign for some mail and lock the door again

You let the adverts cascade to the floor, take the rest upstairs and leave that too to the carpet as you crawl back into bed.

The pillow rustles and you discover a chocolate mouse has found an unfortunate end, melted into the sheet. The paper bag is that of any sweet shop but the scent inside can only be found in one place.

You hold it over your nose and close your eyes, letting dreams take you back.


	2. Cambridge, UK, November 2017

"Excuse me?"

Viv looked up from her desk. She'd spent the last half an hour 'tidying' it, the library quietening down in its last two hours before close. She smiled at the enquiry, the red faced teen staring at the ground.

"I'm looking for a book, the catalogue says there's one available but it's not where it should be."

The smile vanished. It was great people came here to read, but was it too much to at least return a book to the aisle it had come from. Or the desk, so it could be catalogued properly instead of this show of faux tidiness.

It was simpler for the clothing store opposite. Wrongly placed items stood out. From here she could see someone's leftover coffee cup left amongst piles of jeans. Viv shuddered. Being situated in a shopping centre did not mean a lowering of standards. No food or beverages from the food court allowed. She prided herself on having hearing that could rival a bat. She could discern the difference between the rustle of a McDonalds bag and a Gregg's wrapper.

"I'll just have a look," Viv smiled, customer service expression plastered back on by the time she'd got up. Check the returns trolley. The racks by the armchairs were common hiding places for the lazier patrons. Some people liked to hide their books in behind unpopular titles, only wanting to read them at the library instead of checking them out. And if they were checked out by someone else a complaint was likely.

"I'm sorry, I don't think it's going to happen tonight."

"But I need it!"

They looked about to cry so she coralled them back to the desk.

"I'm sorry. We offer a trasfer service, we can have it sent over from another library. It takes..."

"It's missing there as well."

"Wow, it's a popular book then."

"Nevermind," the teen shrugged. "Thank you, anyway."

She felt for him. Anyone whose main need on a Thursday evening was getting a book. For There were a lot of results. There was also a lot of ' lost copy' and 'missing shelf check'. Viv hadn't seen so many reports since 50 Shades.

There were two in the county showing as available so she put in a request, just in case.

The next morning their statuses had been updated to missing.

The high street bookshops hadn't heard of it, didn't stock it. Viv broadened the search, to Google.

Finally some progress. It was a self published tome, even though it had only been published in 2003 it made more sense now in being scarce. Self published runs never did run very high.

It commemorated a real circus. The Wikipedia page ran out of information after that. There wasn't even a picture. Clicking back to the results she found a few specalist shops that claimed a copy, and as luck would have it one in her very on city.

Viv wasn't a librarian for nothing. Books were a lure.

That Sunday, when the library closed early and she had the whole afternoon off, er feet wold have led her their regardless of the intended destination.

It had a black and white cover, the silhouettes alternatively the white parts. An accetate dust jacket gave it highlights of red. No wonder it got stolen, the price tag was as hefty as the book itself. She had nowhere to lean it and had to manage it in one arm as she turned the pages. The first dozen were blank.

Then an illustration of a clock, and on the next page -

'Celebrating 100 Years of Dreams, Dreamers and You'

The words seemed to glow, and tilting the book (almost dropping it, as was the case) revealed its holographic tone. She flushed and flicked less delicately though the next pages. Scand of newspaper articles - some of the bold headlines sticking out more than others.

"Need any help?"

She closed the book up with a thump and offered a smile.

"Just browsing, thank you."

She started putting the book back on the shelf but he took it from her. He was a more elderly gentleman with white hair and round spectacles which seemed to be the look of most small bookshop owners. There was a circular red pin on his lapel, though she couldn't figure out what it represented. Something to do with mods, perhaps.

"Interested in The Circus, are you?"

"Not really. I haven't been in decades, it was just a title I hadn't heard of. I work at the library, someone was asking after it."

"It is getting harder," he sighed. "You can use my desk if you'd like a closer look."

She shook her head. Had to be off, she was afraid. Really.

It would have come, she knew it, the hard sell. But she knew where it was, and if anyone requested it again in the near future she could direct them there.

 


	3. Rome, March, 2007

Poppet was the most accepting of the technological intrusions. Suggested it was better to intergrate such things rather than oppose them. She'd been saying it for ten years. And even though she was so often right people were so set in their ways.

The first tent had had a projector in a tunnel and a travelator that ran through it. A patron would get on, or be seated if they preferred. One side acted as a mirror and at first they simply saw themselves reflected against a black background. But then there would be discernible sky above, brightening. And then the reflection would show they were in the wild west, or on the moon or in their very own tent.

It had been a pain to find the right person to do the bulk of the coding and not be terribly infuriated it was a secret how he filled in the gaps. Finally he had found Kareena and eight months later, after a promise that the circus did infact have some wifi hotspots she agreed to be involved with the circus.

Even then it had been a little clunky as far as Bailey was concerned. Not to the patrons, some of whom would rush round and be an astronaut, gondolier and tightrope walker all in one night. But to the select few who had seen such things before under Marco's mastery of manipulation this was only second best. The perk however was that it was self sufficient and had no need of their proximity.

The tents only improved after that, though they remained few and far between. And though grandparents recounted fondly on their memories of the more famous tents still running it was common thought now that the majority of the circus had to be run with special computers.


	4. Munich, June, 1997

There had been lengthy arguments when pocket sized cameras, and video recorders became a regular thing. The subsequent footage being put on the internet.

The compromises only started being reached when he learnt the fix for it. The Bowens helped, but much of it he figured out himself. How to make the lenses see diferently, so film only came out black or with light spots ruining the image.

The mystery of the circus was integral to its being. Bailey agreed and was vigilent. A very elegant sign, added beneath the trespassers sign instructed such things were not allowed and anyone found breaking the rule would become a talpa caeca.

At present there were one hundred and ninety six photos of the sign to be found on the internet, over a hundred by the same person.


	5. Chapter 5

There is a difference to the clock tonight. Your screen shows the pink egg shaped blob of a Chansey perched upon it. You approach slowly, throwing the Pokeball and...the screen freezes. Though you're still outside the gate your signal is gone, the bars on your phone vanishing for the rest of the evening.

You frown and catch the gaze of the ticket attendant who offers up a sad smile. When you get to the booth you receive not only your ticket but a token for a complimentary hot chocolate.

It's wonderfully flat, and smooth. Warm too, though the metal is firm. A simple but beautiful outline of the drinks cart is on oneside, and on the reverse an etching of someone's signature. There's no way you're exchanging it for a drink. No one ever does.

You've wandered by this point, feet leading themselves during your quiet examination. You stop again in one of the clear courtyards, a wider space between the tents. 

You slip it safely into your pocket and when you look up there is a cat staring right at you. Lucky creatures must fit right though the bars, you think. Holding a hand out you coo at it but the cat doesn't move. Bend down to encourage it further and the cat pounces, springboarding off your back and performing as many twists and turns as its small body is able before landing at your feet.

You gawp a little, petting it gingerly and it accepts the compliment.

"Don't mind Chive, he likes to show off."

"You encourage him."

They both have beaming smiles, one extending a hand to help you up. They both have mirrored outfits, the heels on their boots shining with neon.

"You're staying for the show, aren't you?"

You nod, only then noticing the arrangement of hoops, ledges and a small swing, all lighting up once Chive the cat has returned to the correct position. The animals that follow put on a light show with flashing collars. 

A performer's never spoken to you before and you take a step back quickly to be sure you're not in the way. Mutter apologies as you bump into the crowd that's now forming.

The small troupe of cats leap about enthusiastically like fireworks and all too soon its over. The lights go out and the set up is gone as quickly as it appeared, though you're sure you can still hear a purr close by.


End file.
